


The World According to Mr. Patrice

by rosa_himmelblau



Category: Wiseguy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-11 12:10:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19927867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosa_himmelblau/pseuds/rosa_himmelblau
Summary: How can someone so bland enrage Sonny so?





	The World According to Mr. Patrice

Vinnie was just stepping off the elevator when Sonny brushed past him. Before he had time to register that something was wrong, the doors had closed and Sonny was gone. Vinnie looked at Maggie; her expression said, _Three guesses,_ but Vinnie only needed one. He punched the elevator button, but it wasn't going to arrive before Sonny got out. So he sprinted down the hall to the stairs.

Two flights down, Vinnie realized he was probably going the wrong way. Sonny was mad enough to take flight, he wasn't going to go down where he'd have to walk through the casino and pretend to be friendly. He was going up to the roof, where nobody could see his furious helplessness in his struggle against Patrice's invisible man.

Fortunately roof level was only one level up from where he'd started, so it didn't take Vinnie long to find Sonny, who was pacing, his hands in his pants pockets, jingling his change.

"You're not gonna jump, are you?" Vinnie asked.

"Shut up," Sonny said. He didn't sound angry, he sounded tired.

Vinnie shut up and leaned against a wall.

Sonny paced some more. "You know what I wish?" Sonny finally asked.

"That Sid would fall down an elevator shaft?"

"Yeah, that too. I wish you'd gotten here sooner."

"Hey, I had to take the stairs," Vinnie said. "You could'a held the elevator for me. Anyway, wha'd I miss?"

"Not **here,** " Sonny corrected like Vinnie was stupid. "Here. At the Royal Diamond. I wish you'd got here when Dave was still alive, before everything started falling apart."

Vinnie nodded, not wishing that one little bit.

"I gotta get rid of that creep in his office," Sonny said desperately. He turned to Vinnie, asking his opinion with his eyes.

"You can't," Vinnie said quietly. "You know you can't, Patrice'd just send somebody else." Before Sonny could say that somebody else couldn't be worse than Sid, Vinnie added, "Besides, maybe that's part of Patrice's plan."

"What, you think he sent Sid here, hoping I'd knock him off?" Sonny scoffed.

"I think he's paying real close attention," Vinnie said seriously. "I think if something happened to Sid, you'd be the number one suspect, and I wouldn't put it past Patrice to collude with the cops to bring you down."

"You really think so?" Sonny asked. He was frowning at Vinnie.

Vinnie spun his story into that frown. "Think about it. You and me know Sid's a weasel, but on paper he looks real good, with that Harvard MBA and the upscale broad he's married to. One wop kills another one, the cops only care if they want to use it to put the first one in jail. But Sidney Royce's is an upstanding WASP, he'd make a good victim for a jury to feel sorry for."

"Feeling sorry for Sid." Sonny scoffed, but not at Vinnie's story.

"Yeah, but if he was dead, a jury'd never get to see his charming personality, would they, hm-hmm?" Vinnie's finishing touch, mimicking Sid's annoying little hum, seemed to do it.

Sonny had stopped to listen to him; now he resumed his pacing, muttering to himself.

Vinnie watched him for a few minutes, then joined him. "Mr. Patrice doesn't carry change in his pockets," Vinnie said in Sonny's ear. "He says it ruins the line of a good suit."

For a split second Sonny stopped jingling his change. Then he laughed, and went back to it, making even more noise. "Mr. Patrice," he responded, but he couldn't finish because he was laughing again, shaking his head.

They both did this, had been doing it ever since Sid arrived: mocking those pronouncements about Mr. Patrice, doing their best to imitate Sid's officious little voice. Sonny was better at getting Sid's prissy voice just right, but Vinnie usually won because he planned what he was going to say, surprising Sonny so he'd be laughing too much to respond. If there was such a thing as winning at this. What would you call it, competitive mockery? 

"Are you telling me Mr. Patrice wouldn't pick up a penny if he saw it on the sidewalk?" Sonny asked, looking at Vinnie with wide eyes. This was something Sonny excelled at, probably because he'd been doing it to the real Sid when laughing would have been a strategical error.

"Mr. Patrice prefers not to bend over for any reason," Vinnie said, and Sonny snorted a laugh, nearly choking. Vinnie looked at him sternly. "I hope you don't find Mr. Patrice a source of amusement," he said. "He takes the lines of his suit very seriously, and does not like to be wrinkled for any reason.

"No, not at all," Sonny assured him. "Go on."

"Whenever Mr. Patrice locates any unattended money, he is more than happy to give it a home. However, he employs someone to deal with the currency itself, if it is in some way unclean, or inconvenient for him to pick up. But there is never any question whose money it is."

"Of course," Sonny said seriously. "Please, go on."

"As I'm sure you're aware, Mr. Patrice is a very generous employer," Vinnie said.

"Yeah, I've heard that about him," Sonny said.

Vinnie ignored the sarcasm that slopped over his works. "But Mr. Patrice does not give his employees Christmas bonuses, as that would be politically incorrect."

"I see," Sonny said, adding under his breath, "Good excuse."

"Pardon?" Vinnie said.

"Nothing. Please, go on, this is fascinating."

"However, as a token of his generosity, throughout the month of December he does allow them to keep any change they find in the chair cushions in the office, or on the sidewalk outside."

The implications of this—that the rest of the year Patrice **didn't** let his employees keep any loose change they found—was what made it so hilarious, and this time when Sonny broke up, so did Vinnie.

"Yeah, that's generous all right," Sonny agreed. "I had no idea what a great guy Paul really was."

"You OK?" Vinnie asked in his own voice.

"I'm not gonna kill Sidney, if that's what you mean." 

"Well, that's good, but what I really wanted to know was if you still wanted to go to that new clam joint that just opened. I'm starving."

Sonny shrugged. "Sure, why not."

As they went down in the elevator, Vinnie reflected that there were certain parts of his job he hated. Saving Sid Royce's life was definitely one of them.


End file.
